60 turns. I usually had around three years, starting at sixteen. Sometimes, I’d catch a stray arrow coming out of the gates. If I got lucky, I’d live to the ripe old age of twenty. But most of the time, I’d be captured, tried, and burned to ash at nineteen.

  It’s been five years since I arrived here, so I’m long overdue.

  I had tried everything: from being faithful, to being indignant, to outrage, to being pathetic and begging. But after a couple of hundred times of my skin crackling in the flames, I realized it didn’t matter. No one was watching, or if they were, they didn’t care, or… they were enjoying the show.

  In The Hundred Years War, I didn’t have access to the description of the curse, but I thought I knew it by heart from Steve’s time.

  Apparently not.

  It wasn’t for “a just cause”... at all.

  Liquid flame dripped from the beam pinning me painfully down against the ground. It splashed against my exposed back. My dress had been reduced to drifting ash, and the writhing fabric of my [Shadow Shroud] had dissolved under the relentless assault of the bright tendrils of fire. The shadows on the ground danced away from me, chased back by the roaring flames.

  Heat seared in past my unburnable skin as I stared at the words on the display.

  For just cause… could be whatever the sadistic game wanted.

  I wanted to dare it to keep torturing me, but more sobs racked me. Caustic smoke choked my lungs. Tears hissed away as steam.

  I had promised Beatrice, “I will be back.” But now I would have to break that promise.

  Would this heat melt demon steel?

  I’m too tired to start again.

  My hand reached out.

  “Mama,” I cried out, my voice weak and wretched.

  She had told me I was all that she had left.

  The wind kicked up, batting the raging fire back. White dots swirled around me.

  Snowflakes? Am I hallucinating?

  She appeared before me, in her dark overcoat, her black hair whipping around her face. Her eyes found mine, and I grasped desperately for that ethereal beauty.

  The ghost that couldn’t possibly be real.

  “Ice Barrage!”

  Another voice, even more unbelievable, sounded above me. A flurry of white streaks and arcs of lightning struck the beam above me, shattering it. A pair of arms cradled me and I was lifted up against his chest. My fingers reached up to his face.

  Blue hair. Grey eyes. The glasses askew.

  As he carried me through the smoke, his face shifted, becoming darker, more worn down. But those eyes held the same weight of tears.

  “Papa,” I uttered, cupping his cheek in my palm.

  “Je suis enfin chez moi.”

  I’m finally home.

  —

  I sat up on the bench bed of the House infirmary. Pain radiated up and down the length of my back. The beam had beaten deep bruises into me, but tracing along my spine revealed no open, deep cuts.

  At least, the searing heat was gone. And I was above half Hp, barely.

  The weight on my chest was from a dark overcoat, and underneath I was… naked save for the [Courier’s Belt of Might].

  My tiara, necklace, and rings had escaped unscathed as well. So it seemed magic items were rather durable.

  Were they indestructible, even?

  The rest of my clothing had been reduced to dots of ash against my pale, iridescent skin.

  A hand was clasping mine, a familiar one.

  “Are you hurt, my Lady?” Mama’s voice gently stroked me.

  I flung myself at her, not caring that I was exposed as the overcoat fell away. “You came for me!”

  That had to be her, standing amidst the falling snow, pushing back the flames.

  Her hand patted my back. “Of course I would.” She pulled me in tighter, and whispered into my ear. “You’re my daughter.”

  She had come down the hill to rescue me. Along with…

  I became conscious of eyes staring at me. All around us, the wounded lay on stretchers or sat at benches, with blood-soaked bandages wrapped around them. The infirmary was completely packed.

  Mama draped her overcoat back over me, but my face still burned, [Virtuous] exacerbating the reaction.

  Though, maybe they were staring because of the bruising down my back. I’m sure that’s disturbing enough on its own.

  I winced, straightening my spine.

  Beatrice gave me an earful as she handed me my usual steaming mug of milk and honey. Apparently, the Captain had told her all about what had happened. “You can’t be so reckless, that maid’s life…”

  I thrust a finger to her lips, and shook my head, stopping her right there. That maid was sitting at the corner with her bandaged legs, her red, swollen eyes staring at us the whole time.

  A hiss of pain between clenched teeth, a long groan followed by the crack of bone being set—the sounds of broken men were all around us. I was about to use my voice. After all, this shouldn’t be the same battle as the dungeon, even if it was the same day.

  But I was interrupted by the blurred memories of being cradled against someone’s chest. Smoke had swirled around his face.

  The way those eyes stared down at me.

  Was it even real?

  I turned to Mama. “Did… my father bring me here?”

  “Yes, His Grace carried you here in his arms.”

  Looking down at my hand, I wondered if I had actually cupped his cheek.

  Why?

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  I pushed the thought away. “There was smoke. Is he ok? Where is he now?”

  “Noo!!!” My father’s wretched scream pierced the room. It echoed so strongly of that night that it bolted me off the bed.

  Nurses and healers hurried past us, panicked faces, with the frantic whispers of “The Duchess,” and “Unborn Child” batted between them.

  The familiarity of the atmosphere chilled me.

  Mama pushed against my chest. ”No, Jo. You don’t want to be there.”

  “I have to. Even if there’s a chance.” I patted her arm, reassuring her. “This won’t hurt me.”

  —

  The ring of people surrounding the couple parted upon my approach. I walked barefoot and still had only an overcoat on. There was no time to change.

  Elise lay on the bed, pale as a ghost, her sweat-drenched red hair clinging to her face. One of her hands rubbed her large bulging belly while the other held on to my father’s hand.

  “Nnngggghhh!” She clenched her teeth, and then released several wheezing pants. “I… don’t know… if I can… make it. Leopold…”

  “No, no, no! Just hold on, you’re going to be fine,” My father shouted, his body trembling.

  Elise turned to the old healer. “Just give me enough time for her.” She inhaled sharply, her hand circling her bulge.

  “I will try, my Lady,” the old man answered feebly.

  “What happened?” I asked the healer, as I walked up to the bedside beside him.

  “We’re not sure. She collapsed out of nowhere. We thought it was the stress. That she’s in labor. But…” He glanced cautiously over at Elise and then leaned over to me. “Her vitals are highly erratic. There’s something wrong with her life flow. It feels too similar… to what happened with your mother.”

  His wrinkled face darkened at the last remark.

  I could only nod, the impact numbing me.

  “Josephine, my daughter. Give me your hand.”

  My fingers slipped over her cold clammy fingers. She spoke but I didn’t hear the words because a dialog box had popped up over my vision of her.

  The bracelet’s new effect! I could clear one ailment, once per week. But I had thought it was only my own ailments!

  I immediately focused on “Accept.”

  Elise’s words stopped. She took a deep breath as color slowly returned to her face. “You! What did you do?”

  “You had been poisoned, mother.”

  More than that, it was a delayed poison. A time-released one…

  Like the poison that hit Aaron’s mage.

  “And you cured me of it?” She threw her head back and laughed, a warm, merry sound that bounced off the ceiling. “Leopold, is there anything this daughter of yours can’t do?” Her forehead wrinkled as she reached for my left cheek. “Your face! Did that awful man do this? Oww…”

  She grabbed at her stomach, the cover had slid off it and I could see protrusions moving over the surface of the bulge. “The baby. She’s kicking hard. Something’s wrong! Is it the poison?"

  “I don’t know.” The bracelet didn’t have any more ailment-clears left this week.

  I turned to the healer who already had his glowing hands over Elise.

  “No, I don’t think so. I don’t sense that wrongness in either of their life flows. But the unborn child is stressed. Her heart rate is too high. I can’t seem to calm her down!” The old man exclaimed in frustration as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

  After a few seconds, he pulled his hand back, looking defeated while Elise groaned in pain. “She won’t stop thrashing. If this continues it will be a danger to Her Grace.” He gazed hard across the bed at my father.

  The only reply was a hardening of the jaw, and a slow, grim nod.

  Elise seemed to realize what’s going on. “No! I’m not giving her up! Don’t you dare… Oww….” She grunted, grasping at her stomach.

  There’s one thing left for me to try.

  I moved my hand over Elise’s bulge, feeling the kick and shove of the baby through her. “Mother, do you have a name that you’ve already been calling her?”

  She grimaced in agony, but forced the words between clenched teeth. “Yessss. Ceeeciliaaa.”

  Cecilia…

  I shot a glance over at my father, and he had yanked off his glasses. A sweetness wafted in the air from all their souls.

  …after his great aunt.

  Irony, fate, or just more comedy.

  I looked behind me at all the wounded lying on stretchers and sitting on benches. It seemed that they had all already accepted me as their leader in the fight, or else [Divine Guidance] wouldn’t have worked.

  But just to make sure.

  “Everyone, will you follow me?!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice ringing against the walls. “Will you accept me as your liege? Will you take up arms for me, and heed my call?!”

  “Yes, My Lady!” Their answers shook the room.

  “Yes, daughter.” To my surprise, even my father replied. He didn’t need to.

  Elise squeezed my hand.

  I moved my other hand over her belly, feeling little Cecilia kick and punch against my palm. “Cecilia, you don’t know me just yet. But I’m your big sister. I know it’s hard right now, but I need you to listen to me, and follow me for just a little bit.” I cooed down at the bulge. “Please, I promise you, I will be the best sister ever. I won't let anything happen to you. Now, just listen and come with me.”

  For the prayer, I choose a little lullaby. One that Maman would recite to me at night. Words that reached a scared sixteen year old who didn’t know a bit of French.

  Perhaps it will reach her too.

  I said it in the way Maman said to me, with soft gentle beats.

  “Ferme les yeux, ma petite marmotte... Marche dans la lumière. Saine et sauve. Avec moi... main dans la main.”

  Close your eyes, my little marmotte… Walk in the light. Safe and sound. With me... hand in hand.

  And as I said the words, I poured all I could into them and felt the [Voice of the Maiden] sweeping outwards, a wave cresting and washing over all that surrounded me.

  An eerie silence fell over the room, but all that mattered was her.

  My hand moved over the round bulge.

  The kicking and punching had stopped, replaced by a slow sliding warmth.

  I looked to the healer, and tears were running down his face. “My Lady… that was…” his voice had gone strangely breathless.

  “The baby. How is she?”

  He quickly moved his hand over Elise’s belly. “Oh, yes… She is well. Her heart rate is stable again. And her life flow is good. Just… a little restless.” He glanced up at Elise. “Duchess?”

  Elise grabbed me, pulled me in tight, and kissed my forehead and my cheeks.

  A few hours later, little Cecilia de Bloomcrest was born, healthy and wailing, with a head full of red hair and bright green eyes, just like her mother.

  My father was ecstatic, euphoric even and grabbed Winthrop the moment he appeared to celebrate. I could hear their cheers spilling down the hallway.

  Elise insisted that I stay by her side, and so I did. I tried to help with the cleaning and preparations. But no one would let me do a thing. A high back seat was even brought to me so that I could be comfortable next to Elise and the baby.

  Most of the stretchers were empty now. Except for the gravely wounded, almost everyone else had recovered. They came in a line to thank me, one by one, bowing deeply to me in hushed silence.

  So as not to disturb the baby, I guess.

  She had gripped on tight to my finger the instant my hand came near her, and was now resting snugly against her mother’s chest while her body wrapped around my hand.

  It reminded me a little of Ally the larva. I hoped the Valkyrie was taking good care of her.

  Maybe those two can meet someday.

  I acknowledged those who came to me the best I could without waking the baby: a few dips of my chin, and some simple smiles.

  The maid from before was sobbing uncontrollably. I waved her over and whispered, “It’s alright,” in her ear.

  She calmed only slightly and stumbled into the waiting arms of others.

  Ben came by and shot a rather intense glare at little Cecilia. It made me feel nostalgic, and I told her, laughing. “Don’t worry, he does that to all his little sisters. I got the same treatment.”

  “How did you even remember that?!” He protested.

  I made him sit next to me on the chair and give Cecilia a proper welcome. He seemed happy after that, but then worried over the gash on my cheek.

  I joked that it’d ward away the princes and that satisfied him. Elise wasn’t too happy with that answer, but she just looked at me sideways and said nothing.

  Beatrice and the maids brought over clothes and food. But first they wiped me down with a wet towel. The fire had thankfully burned away the blood and gore off of me, but there was the leftover ash from my dress.

  No one asked why my skin was untouched despite my dress being burned away. Which was good because I wasn’t sure how to explain [Fire Immunity]. They probably just assume it was another part of me being a freak.

  Either way, the girls and I engaged in light banter as they dressed me and did my makeup and hair. To my surprise, Elise joined in as well. She was certainly a lot more natural at it than I was.

  After the girls left, little Cecilia drifted to sleep in her mother’s arms. Elise dozed off as well, exhausted by the day. A nurse-maid came by to check on the two of them before leaving us alone in the silent room.

  Finally, she released my hand.

  I patted her soft, round cheek. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  I’m your big sister now.

  —

  A presence came up to me, and I scooted to the side, making a spot for her on my chair.

  Mama sat down next to me, and I rested my head against her shoulder, settling into her warmth and her scent.

  My eyes fluttered closed to the image of mother and daughter sleeping peacefully before me.